And There Came Comfort And Fright – It’s Back-To-School Time!

I am sure there are better quotes about parenting than the one listed below. Certainly there are ones that are less crass. But, as I write this morning, I don’t know one that is more strangely comforting than this line from Ron Howard’s terrific movie Parenthood.

(Parenting) is just like Aunt Edna’s ass. It seems to go on forever and is just as frightening.

Because, in the span of a 10 day period, Sous Chef has started her senior year of high school, Stretch will have departed for his sophomore year of college and HJ jr is leaving, today, for his freshman year of college.

That’s enough to frighten anyone.

Do I want the kids to need The Cinnamon Girl and me for their entire lives?

No, I don’t.

But, deep down, do I need them to need us? That’s entirely possible.

Somehow, in some fundamental way, the idea that parenting goes on forever is very, very comforting.

Sous Chef, Stretch and HJ jr celebrating the start of a new school year!

A Cinnamon Day – Happy Birthday To My Lovely Wife

I have been trying to do some organizing of digital photos lately, taking a minute or two (more like a half hour or so once I get going) to move pictures into folders, to file them in my Dropbox and to back them up so I don’t lose them. It’s a fun task and often a surprising one when I get a folder done and play through the pictures like a slide show. Specifically when I look at pictures of the kids and how they have changed so much over the course of the last few years, I am struck by the inexorable effects of time. Sous Chef and I were looking through a folder last night and, lingering over a picture of the kids and the Cinnamon Girl, I said to Sous Chef of the Cinnamon Girl: “she’s hasn’t changed at all.”  Sous Chef agreed.

And my Cinnamon Girl hasn’t really changed since I met her.

Does she look more beautiful today than the day we got married? Yes, she does.

Has she gotten smarter each day, each month, each year? Yes, she has.

Am I more in love with her now than I ever was before? Yes, I am.

But has she changed in any fundamental way? No, she hasn’t.

She remains incredibly smart and funny. My Cinnamon Girl can talk about any topic, can engage on any subject and can hold any crowd. I saw this in action recently when she and I went out to dinner with a group of my co-workers. Telling stories of her former life as a lawyer, she was deeply insightful, appropriately off-color and incredibly entertaining. I sat next to her thinking, and not for the first time, “what’s this amazing woman doing with me?”

She remains a wonderful parent to the kids we share, is often the person they go to for advice, is always the person they go to for ready understanding and acceptance. She loves them and they love her. But I love her the most-est. Count on that.

She remains breathtakingly gorgeous. I am so very lucky to see her both as I fall asleep and as I wake up.

In recent months, we’ve had many deep conversations – deeper than our normally deep conversations – about life and the nature of time passing and the strength of our friendship and our marriage. I’ve watched her courageously stand up to new challenges. I’ve seen her face some dark fears. I’ve been brought to tears as she’s triumphed.

When I met her, long before we were dating, I thought that she was one of the strongest women I’d ever met. I knew that she was confident and self-assured. I could tell that she was brilliant.

Each day that goes by and, certainly, each year has done nothing to call into question those early impressions.

My Cinnamon Girl hasn’t changed in the years I’ve known her. She’s only become more herself. And, as I love that self as much as anything in the world, I couldn’t be more joyful.

Happy birthday, Cinnamon Girl – MY Cinnamon Girl.

The Word “Father”

I’ve been called many things, “Mr,” “husband,” “friend,” “teacher,” and more… but the best thing I’ve ever been called is “father.”

I couldn’t be more proud of HJ jr, Stretch and Sous Chef. No matter how many years pass, no matter where they go, no matter what I am doing in my life, the best thing I can ever hope to be is their father.

Sous Chef, HJ jr and Stretch look out over Central Park.

Star Wars Episode One: The Phantom Menace – A Retro Movie Review

It’s a challenge to remember, lo these many years later, how excited THE WORLD was to see this movie. My level of excitement was something north of most of the rest of the world and it resulted in my seeing the movie at a 4:00 am showing the day The Phantom Menace opened. I went again later that evening.

I remember loving it. I remember loving the action, the story, Liam Neeson, the final light saber duel, Darth Maul (both halves of him). I remember loving all of it.

And then a day or two passed… and the reality of Jar Jar and Boss Nass and Watto set in. So did the talk of midichlorians. And the relative skill level of Jake Lloyd as an actor (“yippee!”).

And though I saw the movie more than five times that summer of 1999, I became grudgingly disenchanted because I wanted to love it. As it turned out, unlike A New Hope or The Empire Strikes Back, repeat viewings didn’t help me love the movie more. Rather the reverse. The more I saw it, the more flaw I found in it.

Perhaps we all had set our standards too high and George Lucas could never possibly meet them. Perhaps Lucas should have realized that he didn’t have enough plot in this film, that the stakes weren’t high enough and that trade disputes are a poor substitute for battling a planet killing Death Star. Perhaps…

I hadn’t watched the movie in over two-year before viewing it again as part of my own personal (and highly obsessive) preparations for The Force Awakens this past weekend.

Some context. I watched with The Cinnamon Girl, HJ jr, Stretch, Sous Chef and friends of HJ jr and Stretch. These kids are all over 16 and had all seen the movie at some point before, though Sous Chef remembered very little of it. I braced myself for their reactions. If Lucas included things like Jar Jar and the Gungans to appeal to young children, he was barking up the wrong tree with this audience.

Surprisingly, they all responded very well to Jar Jar and laughed at the places that Lucas probably planned to have his audiences laugh. They enjoyed the Pod Race sequence (which the boys remembered well from playing the Star Wars LEGO game). They loved Darth Maul.

They enjoyed the movie.

That was good perspective because, as I’ve ranked the films in my head, this is always 6 out of 6… (or 7 out of 7 if one includes the Star Wars Holiday Special!). Not only did my kids not hate the movie, they actually liked it.

But, how did it hold up for me after a two-year hiatus from seeing it? Frankly, it held up better than I thought it would.

Darth Maul is a remarkable creation. He’s pure villainy and each reveal is better than the last. There are at least three scenes of doors opening onto the character and each one works. Then there’s the moment he pulls off his head on his horns are visible for the first time. Then there’s the double-bladed light saber to say nothing of the duel he has with Qui Gon and Obi Wan. He kicks it in every scene he’s in and is one of the most memorable creations in the Star Wars saga. That’s saying something when one considers he, literally, speaks 3 lines.

Ewan McGregor is terrific as young Obi Wan Kenobi. One can see this character as a legitimate precursor to Alec Guiness’ creation. And the actor is clearly loving playing around in this universe.

Liam Neeson is very good as well. His Qui Gon Jinn brings appropriate gravitas to the proceedings and Neeson is very good in scenes with Anakin. There is one draw back here, though. Maybe George Lucas realized what a disaster he had on his hands with Jar Jar Binks because Qui Gon, for all his Jedi training and nobility, is a complete jerk to Jar Jar from the moment they meet. He insults him, uses Jedi mind tricks on him, questions his intelligence, grabs his tongue – I was honestly surprised. I hadn’t remembered how terrible he treats the Gungan. It’s an odd choice in writing a Jedi.

The action of the movie in general and the final 3 pronged, tension filled scene in particular, is very good and the light saber duel was the best we’d seen from Star Wars up to this point. The computer generated battlefields and cities are still pretty breathtaking.

And what really does work are the links to the original trilogy, especially R2-D2 and C-3PO. While I didn’t love the in process C-3PO, the two have a budding comradeship that is comfortable and nostalgic. It’s fun to see Jabba (who is listed in the credits as playing himself, by-the-way). Even the first encounter with a CGI Yoda is a warm reminder of what’s to come.

All of this almost outweighs the less than stellar parts of the movie.

Almost.

Let’s face it: Jake Lloyd is not very good as Anakin (that’s a hard thing to write about a kid and this may well relate more to Lucas’ bad casting/weak directing than it does to Lloyd himself). At times, he’s painful to watch. It’s impossible to believe he’ll grow up to become one of the most feared forces in the galaxy. The role Lucas puts him in is just pretty silly. It was one thing to watch untrained, farmboy Luke save the day in A New Hope. It’s quite another to see prepubescent Anakin ride that same horse.

Natalie Portman isn’t that great, either. Granted, she is not given much to do but wear elaborate costumes (or plain clothes depending upon what scene we’re in) and deliver stilted dialogue, but I was struck re-watching the movie at how one-dimensional Queen Amidala is as a character.

Jar Jar is Jar Jar. One either loves him or hates him. There isn’t any in-between.  I am a hater, and not just because of the rampant silliness.. The Gungan doesn’t do much for the plot but cause trouble and the less savory aspects of his characterization are so close to the surface of his portrayal that they are very, very hard to ignore. Removing Jar Jar from the film entirely does nothing to change it, except improve it.

Finally, Mr. Lucas, DON’T explain the Force. Don’t tell me about midichlorians and virgin births. Don’t go there. Ever. Enough said.

There is a “menace” to be battled somewhere in this movie, but it’s a “phantom” one in every sense of the word. The audience hears how terrible things are during the occupation of Naboo, but none of this is shown so it’s difficult to take the threat of the Nemoidians seriously (and this is without noting how non-threatening their character design is). Darth Maul, as cool as he is, is dispatched with relative ease. The only loss the audience can be expected to feel is that of Qui Gon Jinn and none of the characters actually seem that upset about his death after echoes of Obi Wan’s “No!” die out.

This is the major issue with the movie. It’s too much set up, too much prelude. The true villain, through we know who it is, is not fully revealed and never emerges here as much of a threat. In fact, The Phantom Menace ends with such joy and ties up its plot lines – such as they are – so tidily that it’s hard to believe it would have inspired a sequel at all were it not a Star Wars film.

Yes, I loved it when it opened. It’s Star Wars, after all. I said at the time that Liam Neeson could have read the phone book in costume and in character and I would have watched him do it – would have paid for the privilege to see him do it – more than once. That remains true today.

The Phantom Menace is a phenomenon. It just isn’t a very good film.

STAR WARS EPISODE ONE: THE PHANTOM MENACE receives TWO MIDICHLORIANS out of a possible FIVE.

Mad Max Fury Road – A Movie Review

At the end of Mad Max Fury Road, I looked over at Stretch and HJ jr as the closing credits crawled. What caught my eye and the observation I had to share with them was the credit given to the movie’s writers.

“Someone wrote this thing?” I asked.

Those four words may be the perfect summary of my feelings regarding Mad Max Fury Road.

I couldn’t follow the movie at all unless all I was supposed to understand was an epic motocross, car chase across a post-apocalyptic landscape. If that was all I was supposed to gather from the movie, then job well done!

I don’t think that was all I was supposed to gather.

No, when images of water and breast milk and a maimed woman and the search for “The Garden” and … need I go on? When images like these which are, frankly, pretty powerful, are thrown onscreen, I understand that I am supposed to understand something.

I didn’t understand much.

Here’s what I did understand. Charlize Theron’s Imperator Furiosa was the main character of the movie. Was that intentional? Go ahead and forget this Mad Max guy – he’s window dressing at best – it’s Furiosa who drives (quite literally) the action. Her mission. Her goals. Her movie. And, even though I didn’t quite ever figure out what she was trying to do (it couldn’t really be the simplistic plot cribbed from Logan’s Run, could it?) Theron was very good in the movie.

I understood that someone decided Tom Hardy did sound ridiculous in The Dark Knight Rises and thought that the best way to avoid him sounding silly in Mad Max Fury Road was to not let him speak much. Without question, Hardy grunted more than he spoke in the movie. I guess he was good, but it was really hard to tell. Everything Mad Max did was in reaction to what other characters did. After watching the movie, I have no idea what he wanted and what his motivations were. I gathered he was scarred by his past, but the film presented absolutely no prospects about his future.

I understood that women are strong and this is a message I like very much. There is a significant theme about women’s empowerment in the movie – not exactly what I was expecting – and I liked that.

And that’s the end of what I understood.

What I got out of Mad Max Fury Road was a series of violent action set pieces, some clever and some absolutely grotesque, strung together in the frame work of a Cannonball Run-like caravan in a desert landscape. I got that there were bad guys. I got that there were anti-heroes. Surely there were no actual heroes I missed. I got that the evil regime fell at the movie’s end – I don’t think that’s a spoiler – and that, like all good westerns, the main character slunk off to his next adventure.

What I suppose is this: Mad Max Fury Road was gestating so long that there were many, many cooks in the kitchen who added ingredients to the final product. I mean someone must have said “Hey, let’s have a guy playing metal guitar tied to the front of one of the big rigs” and someone else read that and responded “Yeah! And what if his guitar shoots fire?” Someone must have suggested a tanker truck full of breast milk, right? And someone else had to figure out how to put that into the “plot.”

As a two hour women’s empowerment message, Mad Max Fury Road has something to say. As a narrative, it’s a mess. As a visual spectacle of violence and truck crashes, it is poetry. As a fun summer movie, it misfires. Greatly.

Mad Max Fury Road might be good science fiction. It creates a fully realized world, that’s for sure, it’s simply not a world I wish to visit.

The Junior Senator sent me an article that pointed out that filming started without a complete script. I believe it.

MAD MAX FURY ROAD receives ONE BLOOD BAG (because Charlize Theron is so good) out of a possible FIVE.

Chocolate Cake And Circumstance – HJ jr At Graduation

On a June day eight years ago, I had a conversation with HJ jr that went something like this:

“Hey, I wonder if I can remember every piece of chocolate cake I’ve ever had.” HJ jr said.

Sure I had misunderstood him, I asked for clarification.

“What did you say?”

“I wonder if I can remember every piece of chocolate cake I’ve ever had.”

“Umm, I don’t know. Can you?” I asked.

We’d just picked up a chocolate cake for my sister’s birthday party (so HJ jr’s musing wasn’t as out-of-nowhere as it might seem) and we were alone and driving across town. It was a rainy, wet day and the trip took about 45 minutes. As the wipers sluiced rain from the windshield and I negotiated the rain-fearful drivers we encountered, HJ jr proceeded to recount to me his memory of every piece of chocolate cake he’d ever had.

Though he was only 10 years old at the time, it turned out he’d remembered (and remembered) A LOT of pieces of chocolate cake.

Flashforward 3 minutes, and we’re driving him to his high school graduation ceremony.

On another rainy day a few years later, Stretch had a soccer game and HJ jr and I were in attendance. I was cold and wet and returned to the car. HJ jr went off to wander and roam. He’s always loved the rain. After a few minutes, I received a call from him.

“Hey,” he said, “can you come get me? I’m in a hole.”

“I’m sorry, you’re what?”

“I’m in a hole and I can’t get out.”

I discovered, after I found him, that he’d slipped into a bowl in a skate park, the cement icy-slick from the rain.

I pulled him out.

“Want to come back to the car?” I said.

He wanted to wander some more.

I returned to the warmth of the mini-van, settling in until the end of the game. Then the phone rang.

“I’m back in the hole.”

Flashforward 2.5 minutes, and we’re in our seats in the arena, trying to see him as he marches in with his class in red robe and mortar board.

During the fall of his freshman year, I am sitting with him at the dining room table and we’re work our way through his homework. As an English teacher, I have no trouble with freshman level humanities assignments and an incredible amount of trouble helping him with his Algebra. He struggles there because of long diagnosed learning issues and through the course of the year, it becomes clear that he’s not getting the support he needs to succeed in math and the class is an academic disaster for him.

He decides he wants to transfer from my alma mater and bravely tells The Cinnamon Girl and me that things aren’t working.

He moves on to Eaglecrest High School with confidence, going from a class of 175 to a class of 600. He doesn’t miss a beat. He excels.

Flashforward 2 minutes, and he’s sitting a few hundred feet from us, ready for his name to be called and, in the graduation program, the asterisk by his name denotes that he’s graduation with highest honors.

HJ jr set very high goals for himself, especially after what happened in math his freshman year. He wanted to be in Advanced Placement Calculus by the time he finished high school and wanted to take the AP test. In order to do this, he would have to convince his new school to let him take concurrent math classes. Following that, he’d have to teach himself a year’s worth of calculus in an online course. After that, he’d have to prove to the teacher of the AP Calculus class that he knew enough to succeed in the course.

He did it. He did all of it.

Flashforward 1.5 minutes, and he’s standing up, handing his name card to a diploma reader, ready to walk.

I am sitting with The Cinnamon Girl and we’re reading his yearbook. What his teachers have written is incredible. Both The Cinnamon Girl and I are teachers, and we’ve inscribed hundreds of yearbooks between us. I’ve never read what I’m reading.

“It will be generally impossible, in my opinion, to find another student as hard-working, as motivated, inquisitive and respectful as you.”

“… so few are there of your caliber.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Flashforward .5 minutes, and his name is announced, he’s got his diploma in hand and I am tearing up.

There is no other kid like HJ jr. I can think of no other young man as reflective and confident. When I married his mother, I got an amazing bonus son in bargain. My life is more rich and more full because he is in it. From chocolate cake to Pomp and Circumstance, the journey has been both quick and rewarding. And I will miss you as you move on to college.

Thank you for who you are.

Sous Chef and Stretch are lucky to have you as a brother.

I am lucky to have you as a step-son.

COUNTDOWN TO STAR WARS EPISODE SEVEN – 210 DAYS

Counting down the 210 days until The Force Awakens on December 18, 2015.

In the days leading up to Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, And There Came A Day will present links, images, videos, art, memories, laughs, theories and thoughts leading up to the big day… which happens to be on my birthday!  ENJOY and may the Force be with you, always… or at least until 12.18.15!

COMMENCE PRIMARY IGNITION

It’s a bit day around our house… HJ jr graduates high school today!

What would that look like in the world or Star Wars, one wonders. One also wonders what would that look like in the world of LEGO.

Wonder no more!

Happy Graduation to the Class of 2015!

Stretch At 18 Years Old

There are far more than 18 things I could say on this day, the day Stretch turns 18. There are many, many more than 18 memories I could share on this day, the day Stretch (in the eyes of the law I am told) turns 18. There is a mark of love deeper than 18 fathoms that I could write about on this day, the day Stretch turns 18.

So, what to actually say about Stretch? How about this:

I remember holding him in a baseball glove when he was an infant.

Some of the most fun I’ve had watching sporting events were watching him play in them.

The first time his life flashed before my eyes was when I watched him at 2 years old tumble down a flight of stairs towards a cement floor – I caught him.

I once watched a tear freeze on his face after a particularly painful Bronco playoff loss (damn you Baltimore Ravens!)

Skipping kindergarten made a lot more sense when he was a baby than it does when he’s turning 18 following his freshman year of college!

He’s taller than I am – by far – and I’ll never get over being mad about that.

He’s become more than a pleasant young man – he’s become a FINE young man.

He is able to kill me in basketball. I stopped playing him years ago when I realized I had to cheat to win.

Sports are his passion.

His room is clean and orderly… it’s my hope his mind is, too.

I miss him terribly when he is away at school – it’s good preparation for what’s to come all too soon.

I will never forget handing him his high school diploma.

Though he’s not always interested in my passions, he always pretends to be!

He thinks he knows as much about the Denver Broncos as I do… false.

He is a wonderful brother to HJ jr.

Sous Chef and Stretch have a bond as special as I’ve ever seen between a brother and sister.

The Cinnamon Girl is almost as amused by Stretch as he is by her.

Every day, I am more and more proud of this boy – my boy. My love for him grows every day. Along with his brother, his sister and my wife, he is the reason I get out of bed and the last thing I think about when I get back in.

Happy Birthday, Stretch. I love you more than you can possibly know.

And There Came Mothers Day

I originally posted these comments about the moms in my life two years back… they still say what I want to say…

When I think back on growing up, it seemed my mother, The Mater, rarely had a moment of peace. She had three children, two of us close in age, one of us five years younger and I can only imagine that just when my older sister and I completed one stage of life – learning to walk, potty training, you name it – mom had to be ready for my little sister to come upon the same thresholds – to, literally, walk in our footsteps. That must have happened through our childhoods and into our young adulthoods, too. High school choices. Graduations. Marriages. Grandchildren. Every event followed by another.

My mom must not have had a moment to breathe or a moment for herself.

Take one today, Mom. Think about what you’ve done and all that you’ve accomplished. We are not who we are without you. Supportive, caring, loving, ever present – you were those things for us when we were growing up and you are those things for us now. You and Dad made a great team, but all three of us know that you were the quarterback – you had the plan. Hell, Dad knew it, too: “Go ask Mommy” he would say. He was saying that up until he died.

I still do. I still go ask Mommy. I’m more stubborn than I should be when I get the answers, but I suspect I will always keep asking you the questions.

Happy Mothers Day, Mom.

Happy Mothers Day, too, to the mother of my children. They are the best thing we did together, without question.

The Step-in-Law is one of the most generous people I have ever met. She is also amazingly quick with a story – about parenting, about teaching, about her childhood – and those stories leave me and anyone within earshot in stitches. She knows more about life than I could ever hope to learn. And she’s happy to share that knowledge!  Happy Mothers Day to you, Step-in-Law.

My grandmothers – gone now – also were formative for me. It was, in fact, The Mater’s Mater who convinced me to stay at the university I had selected when I wanted to come home my freshman year. Had I departed, Sous Chef and Stretch wouldn’t be around. And my father’s mother needs a blog post entirely to herself some day. Talk about larger-than-life.

Nothing I do as a parent and nothing I am as a man is possible without The Cinnamon Girl.  The manner in which she raises our children, the mother she was to HJ, jr before I ever came along, the confidence she has in parenting – all of it inspires me. She is kind and funny with the kids. They never know what she is going to say. She treats them as adults, and that’s appropriate. She sets boundaries for them that allow them to reach, but also keep them safe. The Cinnamon Girl has incredible instincts. She knows when to leave the kids alone – to let them figure things out for themselves. She knows when to go to them and comfort them or engage them. She knows how to challenge them while always letting them know that they are loved and they are safe. She is an incredible role model for them – especially for Sous Chef (one of my great joys is seeing the young woman my daughter is becoming because of the influence of my wife). She has a distinct relationship with each of our kids.

She loves them.

And they love her.

She is also an incredible caretaker of me, of our kids, of her own mother.

The Cinnamon Girl is someone who never gets a moment’s rest. She deserves a moment. She deserves more than that.

I am blessed with these wonderful mothers in my life. Completely blessed.

HJ Jr Turns 18 Today

March 9 has not been just a day on the calendar since I married The Cinnamon Girl almost ten years ago now, though one member of the household has continually tried to down play its significance. Though his brother and sister and his mother and I would love to make a bigger deal about his birthday – especially THIS one, his 18th – we (primarily) will follow his wishes on this day of all days.

HJ jr is pleased to be 18. He’s looking forward to the next steps in his life – to his graduation from high school and his entrance into college and the slow opening of the wider world. He’s ready, mainly because The Cinnamon Girl has done such a great job raising him. He knows he’s ready.

But he doesn’t like to have a fuss made about him. He doesn’t seek the spotlight. He doesn’t want many words about him said or written. He certainly doesn’t want ANY singing.

There are so many things about HJ jr that impress me. There are so many things about him that astound me. He’s one of the most self-assured kids I’ve ever known. He is introspective and reflective. He is not afraid to hold opinions somewhat outside the Venn Diagram of “traditional” thought. He is unintimidated.  He’s brave. He is knowledgeable and ready to share. He is special and is in the process of becoming something extraordinary.

I love this kid – this young man – and it’s been one of the great privileges of the last decade of my life to be in his.

Happy Birthday, HJ jr. I can’t promise I won’t sing to you. I can’t promise I won’t say “I love you.”

Because I do.